


devils disco (night fever)

by zombiepops



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Angel & Demon Interactions, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angel/Demon Sex, Disco, Genderswapped Chanhee, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiepops/pseuds/zombiepops
Summary: Sunwoo had fifteen years to hear his own words echoing loudly through his own skull, stuck in his head like an annoying jingle that just wouldn’t leave him alone. He’s had fifteen years to mull it over, to agonize over being so harsh for no reason--fifteen years to hate himself for pushing Sangyeon away instead of working everything out.You’re nothing but a no good demon. I hate you.Sunwoo didn’t even mean that.In the fifteen years since their argument, though, Sangyeon had grown out his hair. He’d danced his way through Seoul, through Tokyo, and now Manhattan--across the entire world if he believed the rumors told about him. All while Sunwoo waited, static and unmoving.Alone and wanting and unsure of his feelings.
Relationships: Kim Sunwoo/Lee Sangyeon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	devils disco (night fever)

1979 - The Dreamlike Disco

Sangyeon was dancing. 

He wouldn’t have necessarily called it good dancing, but the standards that Sunwoo has are different than most people alive during this decade. Sunwoo can’t consider himself this era’s George Balanchine, but he’d much rather prefer ballet over whatever type of dancing this was. 

Sunwoo sits at the bar and watches and notes the ways that humanity writhes is practically the same but with far more pointing, less gracefulness on their feet, and a conga line--for some reason. Sunwoo wants to go onto the dance floor, to lose himself in the music and the thumping bass of the disco that surrounds him, but he stays still. He isn’t here for the disco itself; he’s only here for someone who he hopes that would be here--someone that he hadn’t seen in fifteen years to the date. Lee Sangyeon, one of Asmodeus’s demons. Lee Sangyeon, who could destroy this entire town and then some. 

Lee Sangyeon, the love of his life. 

Sangyeon moves with as much grace as many of the humans beside him--not bad but definitely confusing to Sunwoo, who’s hardwired waltzing in his brain from countless times they’ve been pressed together, body to body, during the 1790s---where Sunwoo’s form took on that of an aristocrat named Cordelia from Northern France. Sangyeon wasn’t far different, having taken on the form of the Duke of some kingdom that Sunwoo can’t quite remember. 

Fact of the matter is: every time he and Sangyeon were apart, they’d find their way to each other. This time, the Dreamlike Disco was where they’d meet. 

The beat was quick; on the dance floor bodies frantically glide up and around each other in a swarm of limbs and excitement and sweat. They move with desperation, like once the music stops--once their movements stop--all the vibrant colors and the colors would turn to grey. Like everything would be gone once everything stops. Sunwoo finds himself enamored. 

He swallowed down a gin old fashioned, certain that Sangyeon had seen him. And that, once the music faded, he’d be here. 

So, Sunwoo watches. He watches not only Sangyeon, but the humans who surround him. Their hairs are styled in giant afros and long loose braids, swaying as they move about the dance floor. Shiny platform shoes glitter under the flair of high waisted pants and bright colors surround him. There’s a certain flash to this era, a glittery neon exuberance that excites something in him. 

It was something human, something Sunwoo couldn’t understand for the life of him, but tried to anyway--Sunwoo didn’t sway to the beat, or dance, he just sits and watches. 

On the dance floor, what seems like an endless amount of humans and a demon pack into a space that looks like it can only fit a comfortable twenty people. Their bodies twist and turn, writhing in delight and happiness--maybe even delirium. He catches a glimpse of Sangyeon’s blonde hair and a red pair of flare pants with a black button down shirt. 

Sunwoo crushes an ice cube between his teeth; the sound echoing loudly in his skull against the backdrop of a snare drum and bass. His head sways along with the music, but he doesn't look like he's immensely enjoying it. It was at that moment Sangyeon caught his eye--despite the white aviators covering his eyes, Sunwoo could tell that Sangyeon was staring right at him. When their eyes met, Sunwoo could tell. Sunwoo arches his eyebrow, turning back to the bar as one song fades into the other.

He shrugs. Sangyeon will come to him eventually. 

The song was slower, with a synthetic keyboard melody and a sensual bass line. A man talks about love and passion, about sex and pleasure and wanting. Sunwoo pulls out a cigarette to pass the time, patting his coat pockets. He looks for his lighter--unnecessarily, might he add. He always knew that his lighter was in his left pocket. A small flame appears right beneath his face, attached to the end of a Zippo lighter. Sunwoo looks past the hand holding it out to him, up the sheer black sleeve to the demon behind him. 

He knew Sangyeon would approach him sooner rather than later. Sunwoo turns to touch the end of the cigarette to the fire and takes a drag. 

Sangyeon pockets his lighter, pulling out a slim white case to grab a stick of his own. Stubble adorns his face. Sangyeon instead lifts his index finger to his lips, lighting his cigarette on a self-made flame. For some odd reason, Sunwoo expects Sangyeon to touch their cigarettes together. Sunwoo expects Sangyeon to joke about indirectly kissing him with a laugh, enjoying riling him up like he always used to do when they were closer. 

Instead, he just says nothing. 

They’re in silence, listening to the music. It’s quiet and awkward and they breathe in a lot of smoke, swaying slightly to the beat of the music. Sunwoo doesn’t know what to say, really; he doesn’t know what to do after fifteen years of not seeing each other, fifteen years of not talking. 

He says nothing until a human approaches them, a woman in a pair of go go boots and sparkly bodysuit, boa carefully draped around her shoulders. There were no qualms about whether or not she was beautiful; every human man in this place had stared at her as she danced and Sunwoo knows for a fact that—if he wasn’t spiritually tied to Sangyeon in any way possible—she’d be someone he’d be interested in. But, he’s tied to Sangyeon, so there was no question about where his loyalty lies. 

She saunters up to the two, though, resting her hand on Sangyeon’s bicep. “Hey! Joshua,” Sunwoo hears her say, “How are you?” 

“Ah, Chanmi. Hey,” Sangyeon responds. He’s talking to her, completely ignoring Sunwoo beside him. Sunwoo sighs, exhaling smoke upward as they sit there talking. Sunwoo tries to tune it out, but latches on to the ending of the conversation. 

“Younghoon and I are going back to his place if you want to join us,” her hand trails up and down Sangyeon’s arm. Sangyeon looks at her with a grin, as she interlaces her arm with his. This woman, Chanmi, seems very interested in Sangyeon. “You know we love having you around,” she continues with a smile. The guy, who Sunwoo can only assume is Younghoon, gives Sangyeon a polite smile and a wave. 

Sunwoo doesn’t know why, but he sees red. He turns to look at the two, meeting Sangyeon’s gaze. “Oh, thanks for the offer Chanmi, but,” Sangyeon takes a glance over at Sunwoo, “I’m here with someone. I’m definitely gonna be here for a little while longer.” 

“Oh,” she replies, “Well, see you around then.” Her go go boots clack against the floor as she leaves, arms wrapped around Younghoon. Sangyeon takes a seat on the bar stool next to him. 

“Joshua?” Sunwoo says dismissively. It was as haughty as he intended it to be. 

“That is my name,” Sangyeon replies, with a wag of his eyes. 

Sunwoo purses his lips. “Last time I checked, your name was Sangyeon.” 

Sangyeon pokes his tongue on the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his smile, but utterly failing. Waves upon waves of humans surround them, jostling and giggling and enjoying themselves. They blew smoke in each other’s faces and drank strange cocktails, unaware of the two immortal beings at the bar beside them. Sunwoo finds that humanity is so kind, so trusting. 

So naive to think there’s nothing that would exploit their very need to be seen. 

It’s silent for a moment, enough for Sunwoo to reel in his thoughts about the demon sitting beside him. “That’s the ascot I gave you when we first met,” Sangyeon says, blowing a thin line of smoke out of the corner of his mouth, careful to aim it away from Sunwoo’s face. “I’m surprised you still have it. Thought you would have thrown it away already.” 

Sunwoo’s fingers trace lightly over the ascot. “It reminds me to find you every few centuries,” he says, “To make sure you're in one piece.” 

“Fair point, angel,” Sangyeon replies. He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke upwards. They stay like this for a while until Sunwoo has had enough, grabbing Sangyeon’s wrist tightly—so tightly that it startles the demon. “Whoa,” Sangyeon asks, “Something’s got you in a mood or something?” 

“Come with me,” Sunwoo says. He crushes the barely-used cigarette into the glass ashtray on the bar top. Sangyeon looks confused at him, raising a brow up at him. “What? Are you gonna judge me, or are you going to follow? You know for a fact you only get one shot at this,” Sunwoo’s lips ghost over his ear, “Are you gonna take it?” 

Sangyeon stubs out his cigarette right next to Sunwoo’s, remnants of smoke mingling together in the glass ashtray. He's smirking at the angel. “You know my answer,” Sangyeon says, “You’ve always known the answer.” The small hairs of his stubble ghosts over Sunwoo’s sensitive skin as he whispers his answer straight into Sunwoo's ear, causing him to involuntarily shudder. 

Sunwoo doesn’t even check behind him to see if Sangyeon is actually following, weaving through the crowd to the men’s restroom. 

As Sunwoo knows he would, Sangyeon backs him into the wall and they both gasp at the contact, but don’t break apart from the kiss. Sangyeon tastes of fresh cigarettes and alcohol; ashy and tangy, but underneath all of that it’s still the same Sangyeon. It's all such a brilliant front for two brilliantly broken individuals, really--Sunwoo, with his lack of knowledge about the concept of love, and Sangyeon, with all his love to give. 

They're perfect for each other, if they were honest with each other. 

Sunwoo closes the door with a snap of his fingers. He makes Sangyeon’s aviators disappear, impatiently popping open the buttons of his button-down because he just can’t take it anymore. He bites bruises onto Sangyeon’s exposed collarbones, holding him as tightly as he can.

With hands still fisted in Sunwoo’s jacket, Sangyeon sucks in a breath. “Fifteen years, angel,” he says, “You said--” 

“I know what I said, Sangyeon.” Sunwoo refuses to say those words again. He didn't even mean what he said about Sangyeon, it just slipped out in the heat of their argument. Sunwoo had fifteen years to hear his own words echoing loudly through his own skull, stuck in his head like an annoying jingle that just wouldn’t leave him alone. He’s had fifteen years to mull it over, to agonize over being so harsh for no reason--fifteen years to hate himself for pushing Sangyeon away instead of working everything out. 

_ You’re nothing but a no good demon. I hate you.  _

Sunwoo didn’t even mean that. 

In the fifteen years since their argument, though, Sangyeon had grown out his hair. He’d danced his way through Seoul, through Tokyo, and now Manhattan--across the entire world if he believed the rumors told about him. All while Sunwoo waited, static and unmoving. 

Alone and wanting and unsure of his feelings. 

Sunwoo isn't too sure about his feelings even now, but all he knows is that he wants Sangyeon close to him. He wants to hold Sangyeon close and never let him go ever again. Sunwoo pushes his thumbs into Sangyeon’s hip bones, guiding their groins together. He feels Sangyeon’s shuddering breath before he decides to let go and step back. He isn't too sure what he's doing, but he knows he wants to do it; it's not something he feels like he has to do, unlike every other task he's been given since before he stepped foot into this planet. This, what he has with Sangyeon, is something that is purely his own. 

The air around them changes, fluctuating subtly as Sangyeon’s shoes squeak on the linoleum flooring. He stands, facing Suwoo in the purplish tint of the nightclub restroom, yellow in his pupils as he stares at Sunwoo. Something in Sunwoo switches at that moment, like an awakening of something rooted deep inside of him. All too suddenly, however, Sangyeon is snatching the already loosened ascot from around Sunwoo’s neck and waves it around like a bullfighter wields a red flag--to tame a beast of desire that grows 

Sangyeon is smirking at him, that asshole, bottom lip glistening with spit as he catches his own lip between his teeth. 

“You came to the disco, Sunwoo” he says, voice low. Sangyeon stuffs Sunwoo’s ascot into his pocket, meeting Sunwoo’s eyes. Sunwoo knows it’s a challenge, sees it in the way Sangyeon’s seemingly brown eyes turn red for less then a second. “You’re gonna dance, right?”

Sangyeon is seductive. He is the temptation that Sunwoo knows he shouldn’t fall victim to; he is Sunwoo’s own vice--and even as he tempts Sunwoo, he gives Sunwoo the chance to stop this. Sangyeon always gave him a way out, an escape valve that wasn’t a total lie--it wasn’t his fault because he was tempted. Sangyeon was always willing to be the villain if it meant Sunwoo ended up alright in the end. 

Feelings flood Sunwoo, so much so that he has to shut his eyes. It feels overwhelming. 

When his eyes flutter open, Sangyeon has a hand outstretched but stuck halfway in place. It was then that Sunwoo realized Sangyeon misunderstood. “You can touch me, ya know,” Sunwoo says, “You have my permission.” Sunwoo guides one of Sangyeon’s hands to his hips. The other gets grabbed, brought to Sunwoo’s lips to place a kiss on the open palm. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Sangyeon grins, curling his fingers around Someone's erection. The questions he had seemed to vanish as he slowly unbuttoned Sunwoo’s pants. 

Sunwoo lets out an impatient breath. 

“Are you in a hurry?” Sangyeon teases. “I can make it quick, and then we can both be on our merry way.” 

“No! I-” Sunwoo starts, but the words die on the tip of his tongue. What can he say to Sangyeon? What  _ should  _ he say to Sangyeon?

I miss you?

I want you?

I’m sorry?

_ Please stay with me? _

All he can do is pull Sangyeon in for a kiss, trying to put all his conflicting emotions into it. And Sangyeon knew--he must have known, because when he breaks the kiss he stares directly into Sunwoo’s eyes and smiles, and subsequently scrambles to his knees after. 

There is no hesitation. Sangyeon eagerly sucks Sunwoo off, as if all of the dancing and the chatting and the drinking had been just a prelude to this exact moment--where Sunwoo wanted to be, and where Sangyeon always loves to have him. 

Sunwoo gazes down at Sangyeon, noting the concentration in the demon’s eyes. It’s just as it was before, a sense of normalcy in an unfamiliar and otherwise confusing situation. 

Sunwoo curses the pleasure he feels from Sangyeon’s split tongue. Especially as he curls it around the sensitive spot just under the head. 

“S-Sangyeon, my love, I’m s-” he says, without thought.

Sangyeon grabs the hand he’d been using to keep himself balanced, threading their fingers together gently. The pressure brought Sunwoo back from the brink, serving as a reminder as he looked into the demon’s eyes:  _ it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.  _

With another split of his tongue, Sangyeon had Sunwoo writhing in pleasure. Sunwoo’s vision slowly returns from the white out of his orgasm. His ears rang, drowning out the music pulsing through the wall.

Sangyeon rests his elbows against the wall, looking up at Sunwoo with amusement laced into his features. He nuzzles his face into Sunwoo's neck and speaks. 

“No matter how hard we try,” Sangyeon says, “We just can’t seem to be rid of each other. Isn’t that right, dear?” 

Sangyeon draws back, touching their foreheads together. His skin is smooth under Sunwoo’s fingers. “You’d slither up any wall I built to protect myself,” Sunwoo says softly, “Wouldn’t you, my love?”

“What is a wall other than a challenge, my angel?” He cups Sunwoo’s face with both of his hands, holding him in place while he places kisses on his lips. 

Sangyeon’s stubble tickles Sunwoo’s nose, sending sparkes of electricity throughout his body. He sighs against his mouth, and the sound of it nearly opens the floodgates of emotion that Sunwoo hadn’t been too familiar with. The small sigh was their equivalent of I love you---of what are we getting for lunch, or I’ll follow you to the ends of the universe. Tears prick at his eyes and Sunwoo can’t even will them away. 

He breaks the kiss. 

“Sangyeon,” Sunwoo says, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have left you behind--” 

"It's okay." Sangyeon looks down at the necktie, then back at Sunwoo with a raised brow. He covers Sunwoo’s hand with his own. He removes the ascot from his neck and shoves it back into Sunwoo’s pocket, running a hand over where he could feel a dark bruise darkening. Once Sangyeon finishes relishing in his love bites, he runs his fingers lightly over the bruises bitten into Sunwoo’s skin, knowing that --if Sunwoo really wanted to--he’d vanish the marks but he hasn't. “We can work on everything,” Sangyeon says lightly, “At least, if you’re willing to...” 

“Don’t worry,” Sunwoo affirms, tenderly stroking Sangyeon’s face with his clean hand. “I'm more than willing.” Sunwoo places a light kiss on Sangyeon’s nose. “I'm never leaving you again. I promise.”

Sangyeon’s mouth twitches into a half-smile as he turns away, snapping a fresh pair of glasses onto his face. Sangyeon, the dancing demon with the red boxer flare pants and the black button down , whose black platform shoes make a dull thumping sound as he exits. Sangyeon, who slips back into the role of a tempter, so Sunwoo could claim innocence and never say how he truly felt about him out loud. “Same time, same place?” Sangyeon asks, not looking back. 

“Where else?” Sunwoo replies snarkily, garnering a laugh from Sangyeon. He opens the door, music bleeding back into the charged air of the bathroom. 

Sunwoo closes his eyes. He breathes in through his nose as his blood courses through his veins. The click of the door closing rang in his ears as he thought about rebuilding the staircase slowly, while the music played loudly through the speakers. He thinks about going away again, about disappearing from the small little rock they call Earth, and leaving everything about the mortal world behind--including the food and the fashion. Everything. But he knows it would be lonely not being on this planet, lonely without humans and their new dance styles or their new inventions. 

It would be lonely without Sangyeon too, who’s made it his lifelong goal to stay as long as he can on this strange planet. Sunwoo supposes he can be right beside him. 

After all, Sunwoo is his assigned angel. 

  
  



End file.
